


You'll build your walls and I will play my bloody part to tear them down

by bloodysteel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:45:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodysteel/pseuds/bloodysteel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellarke + you took my favorite seat on the bus</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll build your walls and I will play my bloody part to tear them down

Every morning of every goddamn day, Clarke would wake up at 6:45 am and take her 7:10 am bus to the university. Every day. Since her first day at med school. Her apartment was around the beginning of the bus line so she could chose her seat and she usually sat near the middle exit of the bus, close to the window. It was her spot. She would sit there, put on her earplugs and listen to Mumford & Sons to wake up for her early classes, reading her textbook or checking her schedule.

Every goddamn morning.

Until the bus schedule changed and she had to take an earlier bus if she did not want to be late for her classes.

That morning, she was a bit distraught. Her sleep cycle had changed and therefore so did her habits. Clarke liked her habits and as a very rational person, she wouldn’t want them changed. So Clarke got inside the bus as usual, said ‘hi’ to the bus driver and walked to her usual spot without caring, her earplugs already on and her mind still in her dreams. 

She sat down and her seat _moved_ below her. She shrieked a bit and rose suddenly, staring at the man sitting in her spot, smirking at her.

"Hi." he said, looking up to her. "I usually would not mind a pretty girl sitting on my lap, but you could at least introduce yourself before getting to second base."

Clarke blushed but got back to her senses almost immediately. “That’s my spot, sorry.”

The man laughed at her and she couldn’t _not_ stare at his freckles and the way his smile brightened his face - and the whole world actually. “Well, Princess, I’ve been sitting there for the past seven years every morning and no one’s ever complained until now.” He told Clarke and she frowned. The bus started to move and she stumbled back on his lap, mumbling an apology as she sat next to him.

"I guess you used to take the 7 am bus? I took the 7:10." She guessed. He nodded at her and she sighed. He stared at mouth twitching from the news, she seemed rather unhappy.

"I guess we could split. Tomorrow you get this seat and so on." She looked up at him and seemed amused. It was just a seat, he did not care very much and according to the face she was making, neither did she. It was just a question of habit and when it came to early mornings, he knew nobody liked their habits shaken.

"I’m Bellamy, by the way." He gave her his hand to shake. She looked at it and then back up at him.

"Clarke." she said, reaching for his hand and shaking it. And then the talking started. He was working at the university and would soon be a teacher there, in criminology. She listened to him talking about crimes and corpses and the next morning, he listened to her telling him all about the human heart.

The following week, he took the bus back from the university on purpose - without telling her so, of course. Bellamy invited her to an exhibition of anatomical paintings and she said yes - how could she refuse anything to those freckles?

The exhibition was awful and boring - but Bellamy making dirty japes about the ‘work’ of the artist and Clarke false-analyzing the paintings in the style of an art student made their night. They came out of it their abs aching from laughing and everyone staring at them with big angry eyes. They did not care.

"Wanna grab a cup of tea at my place?" she asked, out of her breath. She hated coffee and hated herself for it because she feared he might not like tea.

"Sure. I love tea." She beamed at him and he nudged her softly. They walked side by side, hands skimming tenderly without reaching for the other. They couldn’t tell you what they talked about. Clarke was on the edge of bursting every now and then because she _wanted_ to grab him by the shirt and kiss him hard against the wall. Bellamy wanted the same - even harder, even rougher.

Once they got inside her apartment, Clarke reached for her teas on her tiptoes, and realized she was too small to grab them. She sighed as she got back on her feet, ready to get a chair to climb on, when two strong hands grabbed her waist and propped her up easily. She winced and looked down at Bellamy smiling at her. She smiled back and got hold of the tea, then he put her down.

"Thanks", she said, putting a stand of blond hair behind her ear.

"Anytime, Princess." She liked that nickname, more than she should have. She put the tea on the counter behind her, slowly, staring into his eyes and before she could utter a word, her ass was on the counter too, her legs wrapped around Bellamy’s waist and his mouth was pressing urging kisses down her neck. Her hands reached for the hem of his shirt and he got rid of it almost immediately. She mimicked him, baring herself to him, and reached for his neck against, forcing him into another deeply passionate kiss. She gasped for air but refused to let him go - she needed his skin against hers, her breasts firmly pressed against his broad muscled chest.

She ruffled her hands through his hands as he started kissing his way down her torso and before she could even realize it, her bra was lying on the ground and Bellamy’s lips were around her right nipple, licking and sucking the life out of her. She moaned loudly and shamelessly, pushing him toward the table where he sat, looking surprised.

She grinned at him, taking off both his jeans and his pants in one single expert gesture, exposing his manhood.

"Not so fast, Princess." He said as she grabbed him fully and started to stroke him. She frowned at him. "I won’t have you clothed if I’m naked." He smirked at her and kissed her fully. She locked her arms around his neck and jumped to wrap her legs around his waist.

He carried them to her room and stumbled on her bed, lying her before him. Again, he teasingly kissed his way up and down his torso, playing with her breasts, before getting rid of her jeans. He looked down at the wide stain on her panties and smirked at her. She did not even blush and arched her back for him to take it off, moaning his name softly as he did so.

Clarke spread her legs for him, and reached for his head, trying to force him up to kiss and get inside her. But Bellamy had something else in mind. Kissing her clit, licking it while inserting one then two of his fingers inside her. Clarke squirmed and screamed of pleasure - screamed his name.

"Bellamy, I need you. Now."

"Not so-" She cut him by pushing him down. He fell down on the floor and hadn’t come back to his senses before he saw Clarke straddling him, guiding him inside her.

"I said now." She exhaled as she took him deep inside. It was Bellamy’s turn to moan and grunt and groan loudly as Clarke nothing but rode him.

The following morning, they did not split. Both of them were sitting on their spot. Clarke laughing and showering kisses on Bellamy’s face as she sat on his lap - on _their_ spot.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me prompts here or my tumblr page (my pseudo is bloodysteel too!).  
> The title is from the song Babel by Mumford and Sons.


End file.
